Adventures in Hero-ing
by Blacknovelist
Summary: A series of BNHA drabbles too short to be on their own, placed in canon, AU, and every other setting under the sun. Newest Fic: Light at the End (Ageswap AU: There's a bit of an accident. The graduates of UA convene, take comfort, and know things will be okay. They have to be.)
1. Bomb Squad

**Written for Athanatosora from a series of first sentence drabble prompts: "24 + Bakugou" (Canon-compliant, set in the future)**

* * *

"Please tell me you know how to defuse a bomb."

A beat of silence, then an awkward crackle and vaguely indignant mumble of "yes, well, kind of I guess not really no," drifted through the tiny speaker in his ear. Bakugou's grit his teeth at that, the impending scream of exasperation and frustration in the back of his throat turning into a low groan.

He considered ditching the barely-a-threat enemies for the other pros to deal with and instead take out what was arguably the biggest threat in the area - an obscene amount of explosive materials (enough to probably take down the whole block) haphazardly glued together and tied to a timed trigger, if what the wannabe robbers had explained to them in stereotypical movie monologue style earlier was accurate. It would probably be more interesting than dealing with the fucks standing around him, at least.

Hell, he didn't even need to actually look as he bashed small-time thug leaping for his back into the wall of a building, their remaining companions eyeing him (and the slowly growing pile of knocked-out villains) warily.

"I'm starting to wonder if I should've gone on hostage duty with the kid," Bakugou growled, insulted glares ignored as sparks casually flew from his fingertips. Another three found themselves launched into brick and concrete, and the rest scrambled to avoid the terrifyingly precise explosive flashes. "We dealt with problems ten times more interesting and challenging than this while _I_ was in fucking UA, dammit!"

One of the other heroes darted around him in a flash of lightning, bringing down a cocky duo to his left. "Do my ears deceive me, or are you actually saying you would've missed out on a chance to fight?"

"You can shut your fucking mouth, sparky, at least I'd be doing something more productive than staring at a pile of shit like it's an alien life form instead of asking for help or getting it out of there because I don't know how to deal with it."

"I can still hear you, y'know!" The small voice protested into their ears, and Kaminari winced at the reminder. "Good god, I'm like, fifteen! What the hell made you think I knew how to defuse a bomb in the first place, there wasn't even supposed to be one here!"

"Aren't you the brat always hanging around the support department or some shit? Did nothing make its way through that fucking helmet and skull of yours while you were there?"

"Not relating to stuff like this! But, yes, a little help or backup or anything really would be nice."

Bakugou dutifully ignored Kaminari mouthing "why did the kid pick _you_ to be his workplace experience guy" behind him and knocked people's two heads together, kicking a third man down and launching a fourth and fifth halfway down the street. A fight was still worth fighting for a little bit of practice after all, even if it was a completely one-sided one.

Two villains got back up and immediately found themselves sprawled out on the ground, winded and probably concussed to hell and back. Really, wasn't it their faults for getting involved in a fight with him of all people in the first place?

"Listen closely and internalize this shit, kid, because I'm not gonna fucking repeat myself after this and it's definitely gonna save your ass someday when no one else is around to deal with it," Bakugou said, effortlessly flicking the last few would-be robbers away for the other heroes to deal with. "And if you think that fucker is gonna explode or things are going south with it, you book your goddamn ass outta there, consequences be damned, because like hell I'm letting you deal with and defuse that shit on your own no matter what your fucking quirk is, got it? Now, you better know the basic compounds used to make shit like nitroglycerin and other high explosives or I swear…"


	2. Slow Day

**Written for an anon, for first-sentence writing prompts: "Ochako and Tsuyu, 25" (AU, and I get the impending feeling the anon meant for it to be ship. Whoops.)**

* * *

"Where have you _been_ , Ochako, I was ready to call the police!"

The frog-girl's usually calm expression was replaced with worried eyes and a questioning tilt of the head. Ochako slid into the chair across from Tsuyu with a sigh and a sheepish smile. The blue and pink bag hanging from her shoulder was set on the spare seat beside both of them, next to Tsuyu's green one.

"Sorry, Tsu," she said, taking an offered menu from a passing waiter with a quick thanks. "There was a little trouble downtown - it was barely anything, really, just a pickpocket and a hit-and-run that got a bit out of hand, but they had to close it down for some time before they figured things out."

"You'd think the city would've figured out how to deal with these kinds of things more effectively by now."

"I know!" They shared a laugh, lingering stress and tension dissipating in favour of relief and contentment. Ochako trailed off with a hum, rolling the warm mug of tea between her hands. "Two of them showed up to handle things before the police showed up today. One was Woods, but I think the other one was new because I've never seen her before."

Tsuyu blinked up at her. "It's been a while since a new vigilante showed up, even if all the news is about how there've been more now than in the past ten years or so," she said. "Maybe it's a sign."

The reply was interrupted as the waiter came by once more. Neither bat an eye as he took the menus again, notepad two orders heavier, but the chatter of the cafe and clamor of foot traffic outside gave them both pause. Ochako sipped her tea.

"I know I told you this, but I've been thinking about applying for another job down in Ehime," she began, voice light. "There's plenty of opportunities down there, but I want to know what you think before I make any big decisions."

"Ehime… that's not too far from the Hosu district either, right?" A knowing look was shot her way. "I think it's a good idea. The area is nice enough and I know how much you want to be able to support your parents more; but, are you sure this is what you want to do?"

Plates clacked on the table before the girls were left alone once more, and Ochako smiled. She didn't need to glance at the collar peeking out from her bag or the tan gloves buried in Tsuyu's for them both to hear the unspoken answer, and it's likely for the best.

"You know I am, Froppy," is her reply instead. Newspapers go wild over new faces on scene a few weeks later, but the only glimpse of them the media gets is a flash of green and a bright, bubbling laughter.


	3. The Problem

**Written for Sevi007 for the first-sentence writing prompts, though there were two: "Class 1-A with 14 and 18" (Canon-compliant, set at the dorms (and can be viewed as part of the Dorm Life series))**

* * *

"In my defense," Yaoyorozu began, "it seemed like a brilliant idea at the time."

"Oh, I'm sure it wasn't a bad idea in the beginning, at least," Jirou shrugged, sparing the ground an amused look. "But that doesn't really change the fact that you guys managed to turn clips and elastics into… uh… all this?"

Ashido shrugged apologetically, gently unwinding the hair bands from their knots in Yaoyorozu's hair as Tooru handled the ones stuck in hers. "Okay, so I got a little enthusiastic. I still think this idea has something going on for it."

"We probably should've waited for it to dry a little more or something, even if it would've been harder," Kirishima remarked, barely twitching as the brush in his hands yanked at his hair and sent several more clips clattering to the floor. "Dealing with wet anything tends to suck."

Kaminari blinked down at the tiny pile, fake gemstones winking in the living room lights, then back up at Kirishima and the rest of them. "Don't take this the wrong way, dude, but what are you doing here anyway?"

"Well they asked if they could borrow my head since I've got pretty long hair, but it spikes up when it's dry so we had to do it while it was still a little damp."

"So you just-"

"Don't you all think you ought to keep it down a little?" Tsuyu murmured, hopping over with Uraraka to check out the commotion. "Sensei *is* sleeping right over there."

"What's going on over here anyway?" Uraraka asked. She carefully plucked a loose pin from the top of Yaoyorozu's head.

"All Might-sensei's hair is getting long," Tooru replied, brush waving through the air.

"…and?"

" _And_ ," she stressed, "even if it's all combed back like that, eventually it's gonna be hard for him to handle. I mean, it feels pretty nice but it sticks out a lot, so maybe tying it back would help keep it neat and out of the way for him when he needs it! Who knows how tangled it gets when he isn't paying attention. We thought we could figure out the best way to keep it back and help sensei with it when he wakes up."

Sero opened his mouth, paused, and closed it again. "You know, that really isn't a bad idea at all. Kind of weird, sure, but he'd probably appreciate it."

"It doesn't really answer how it managed to turn into every clip and hair tie and elastic band in the building getting stuck on your heads though." Jirou gestured to the steadily growing mound.

"Oh, that's because I wanted to try a few different styles that I saw on TV one time," Ashido said. "I couldn't really get it to _twist_ properly, y'know?"

"That's fair."

Satisfied with their answers, the observers moved to help the struggling quartet. The girls swarmed around the couch, helping coax the tangles out with minimal hair-pulling as the boys swept the accessories into a neat pile on the table. It was quiet, save for the occasional plastic clatter and the deep even breaths of their teacher atop the room's second couch.

* * *

Tokoyami turned the corner behind Kouda and Shouji, head feathers ruffled and towel hanging from his shoulders. He opened his mouth, about to greet the classmates gathered there already when he paused, blinking as he took in the sight in front of him. Between the brightly-colored scrunchies visible on his teacher's head, the tufts of hair neatly tied back and the pile of glitter across the floor and table, there was really only one thing on his mind;

"…What's with the pigtails?"


	4. Darkness Ever-Reaching

**Written for an anon who asked for a drabble where Izuku becomes a Noumu. I decided to turn it into an experiment on my own descriptive and melodramatic abilities. Also, I hadn't written anything that was solid angst before, and I'd been trying to hash together a good nightmare fic for some time because of reasons, so that was all a plus for me.**

* * *

Dimly, above the sound of his own slow thumping heartbeat in his ears, Izuku feels he is alone.

He's not sure where he is or how he got here, but there's a weight in his bones and a thick haze in his lungs. Though his vision is dark, images manage to sort themselves behind his eyelids; buildings and skyscrapers; leather wings that brush a memory from years and years and years ago; flames and ice and blades and pipes dancing past so close he can feel it; their silhouettes crafted from black and white and silver and gray, impressing vibrant colors into his mind.

It feels like he is walking without a twitch of his legs, like he is soaring above the rest of the world despite the burden over him (this intangible thing that ties him down better than any binding ever could) and although he can feel the world around him, however vaguely, it's as though he isn't there at all. Somehow it's peaceful here, despite the tense premonition that has settled on his shoulders. For a moment Izuku wonders if he should open his eyes, listen to the distant piece of himself that whispers for him to return to the world, but something about the air changes and the thought flees as soon as it came.

The world is cold around him, and he can't help but miss a warmth with an origin he isn't even sure of.

 _He's stable_ , a voice seems to whisper above and around him. A clatter of steel on steel, the thud of shoes on concrete, the minute jolt of the surface he lay on punctuated by a squeaked protest of wheels. Izuku does not move.

 _Ready when you are_ , whispers another.

A hand gently lays itself atop his arm; a pause, then the world around him bursts. His shoulder blades slam against his cot as his skin ripples and a freezing heat ( _it feels wrong wrong **wrong** and yet why is it **familiar**_ ) tears through him. More impressions of black and gray move past his eyes, stiff skin and wickedly sharp teeth and enough muscle to rend apart metal with a single effortless swipe, and his voice catches itself in his chest and stays there with his shaking heart.

Someone lifts him and lets his feet touch the ground. His knees follow almost immediately as the presences back away, his body all but ripping itself apart and stitching itself back together again with each spasm. Izuku moves to curl into himself and recoils when he realizes how alien his body feels suddenly, mind unable to sort through his misty thoughts long enough to figure out just what is wrong.

 _Open your eyes_ , one of the thoughts say to him, but he is afraid of what he'll see when he does. When he peeks through all he sees is dull beige, and Izuku closes them again. Impressions of the world around him keeps painting itself in silver shadows in his mind's eye anyway.

Fingers appear at the back of his neck ( _and since when have they been here?_ ), drumming and rolling rhythmically along its middle from the bottom up. Base, middle, middle, top, repeat. He all but flails away, trying to sit up and failing. The stranger barely pauses, the tap of sandpaper fingertips returning as soon as he stops, leaving him twitchy and shivering. Through the rippling haze of everything he longs to rip away with the warmth lingering in his heart but he reels away from the nonsense thoughts because he's _quirkless_ , and it's been a long time since he's felt that sensation in his chest ( _that he recognizes as the way he used to think a Quirk would feel like if he had one_ ) but it's fake, it's _fake_.

 _Right?_

The unsettling fingers finally stop, lingering on his lower back, and for a moment the pain and heat and images finally fade.

Breath tickles the tip of his ear as something reaches out and wraps around his torso to lift him up, a hand grasping the back of his neck.

"Go fly and make us proud, _little hero._ "

A shove follows the hissed words, the tightness around his throat lasting no longer than an instant of breathlessness before being replaced with the sensation of dropping into nothing, and for all that sound wants to tear itself free, he opens his eyes instead and _sees_.

* * *

The dorm room is dark when Izuku wakes up, unnaturally cold despite the warm sheets over him. His heart isn't beating as hard as he thought it would be - he can't even hear or feel it past the chill and the slight thrum in his ears - and the realization unnerves him more than he expected it to.

It's a familiar feeling encompassing him now, a numbness as bits and pieces of the dream ( _a dream? Was it a dream?_ ) return to him while others fade away forever. At first he wants to hold the tension and stillness together until he doesn't feel so alien to his own room and bed and body, the thought of moving too daunting of a task so soon after waking, but then warmth starts flowing through him and chasing those feelings away, starting from the feeling in his chest that he recognizes as One for All; his teacher's...his _own_ quirk.

Izuku presses his eyes shut until stars burst, before he curls tighter under his sheets and settles in to watch the moonlight drifting over his head.

* * *

"Good morning, Midoriya!"

"Morning!"

"You look kind of dead on your feet today, are you alright?"

"Oh, y-yeah, I'm good. Just... slept kind of funny and woke up a little early today, that's all. What's for breakfast?"


	5. The Cake-Date Incident

**Written for an anon, from first sentence prompts: "#7 and Toshinko", with bonus challenge of having Inko say the first line. Based on a moment mentioned in the fic New Management, but reading it isn't necessary unless you want more context. (Canon-compliant and Toshinko, set within the Dorm Life series)**

* * *

"In my defense, I thought this would go a lot more smoothly," Inko mumbled, eyes darting over the dirty countertops and hands fluttering and wringing. "I'm so sorry, Toshinori-san. I should have expected something like this would happen. I normally don't have a problem cooking with my quirk, but I didn't realize it was open next to me."

Toshinori coughed into his fist, hiding a laugh when she attempted to dust her hands off and spread the white powder around instead. She levelled a stern look at him anyway, lips twitching when she looked up and immediately saw his batter-coated oven mitts rather than his face.

"I'm sure I can take some of the blame for this mess onto myself as well, Inko-san." Toshinori grinned, raising a hand to wave before faltering. He slipped the pink mitts off and carefully set them atop the empty egg cartons that had managed to escape the kitchen onslaught. "I was the one who forgot the timer for the dough, and I certainly shouldn't have left the bag unattended when I was finished."

Inko gave the edge of his shirt a light flick, a cloud of flour and sugar billowing out. "Well, perhaps it was just a little bit," she joked. "What time do classes end?"

"About five today, I believe. We've got our work cut out for us if we're going to finish cleaning up before dinner."

They looked over the scattered dishes and the torn flour bag, then at the gleefully blinking '3:24' on the clock's face. Carefully, Toshinori peeled the recipe off the table, waving it clean and rubbing flour off the chrome fridge door to stick it out of the way. Inko buried her head in her hands and wheezed out a laugh, and he followed suit soon after.

"Perhaps," he mused, "we ought to tell young Satou that we may want to start with a simpler recipe."

"That's probably a good idea. I'll go look for the broom and the other cleaning supplies." She scurried off, struggling to hide the bright smile on her face as Toshinori's own laugh rumbled behind her.

This had been the most fun she'd had cooking in a long, long time.


	6. Late Night (Ageswap AU)

**Written for randomly-passing-mia, from the first sentence prompts on tumblr: "7 with the Iida bros" (Set in Ageswap AU, takes place after the Workplace Experience arc but is technically spoiler-free)**

* * *

"In my defense, I thought it would go a lot more smoothly."

Tenya sighed at Tensei's reply, shuffling into the space left for him on the seat between the armrest and his younger brother. He took in the crutches leaning against the table, the warm mug being worried and rocked between sturdy hands, the way his brother sagged against the back of the couch, and pressed closer. A grounding weight against his side.

"I'm not here to tell you off, Tensei," he said, voice quiet to match the night time hush. Tenya glanced at the clock, and _2:38 am_ blinked back. "You've heard more than enough from everyone _and_ yourself, and it wasn't your fault to begin with. I simply thought I might ask."

Tensei's shoulders hunched, bandaged legs planted firmly on the carpet floor. "We should've gone back, called for help from our mentors, though," Tensei said. Tenya gave him a look. "It was practically luck we got a message off at all before our phones got smashed to bits." He shook himself. "But, Toshinori told me he thought if he could hold off just the one it would be fine, and I wasn't about to go back without him. That's not what a hero does."

"And then the villain came, and more noumus, and you were separated," Tenya finished. "So what's keeping you up? Would talking help?"

"I'm okay. It's just hitting me, is all. I kind of feel like I should've done something else then, or made a better choices, but it'll pass."

Tenya stared for a moment, thoughtful. Gently, he pulled the mug from Tensei's hands and placed it on the table, leaning back to nudge him with his shoulder.

"Did I ever tell you about the time I snuck away from one of my instructors for the workplace experiences during my time as a student?"

Tensei rolled his head to look at him, face immesurably exhausted, but a grin still tugged at his lips as he asked, "really?"

"Really." Tenya smiled back. "Izuku and Shouto-kun were the ones who bailed me out as well, thanks to a few coincidences. Ochako had some choice words for me, when we got back. It was... something."

"What happened?"

"Well you see, there was a vigilante on the loose around the area I was patrolling with my mentor, and given the fact that a friend of mine had already been targeted by them before, I wasn't exactly fond of the idea that they were out there still..."


	7. Dawn

**A missing-scene vignette/drabble I wrote, which was originally supposed to be longer but in the end I figured it was okay like this. Maybe someday there'll be a part 2, or an extended version. Canon-compliant. Set during the Workplace Experience arc in chapter 56, after Stain "collapses".**

* * *

When the police arrive a bare few minutes later to pull Stain away with the paramedics on their heels, checking injuries, it's then that the tension of the air seems to break at last and the world rushes in, constricting their chests and filling their minds with static. Todoroki and Iida nearly fall over themselves as they stand and rush to Midoriya's side, skirting around the noumu's corpse and lingering cops to the boy who hasn't moved from his spot on the ground except to sit up. He shakes slightly with each breath, hunched in on himself with one arm absently cradling the other and his unseeing eyes focusing on the concrete in front of him. Worried about him like this, they can almost pretend they're not trembling just as hard.

"Midoriya, are you alright?" Iida asks, urgently looking him over - the green suit is miraculously undamaged, despite the claws that had pulled him from the ground. Todoroki crouches and offers Midoriya his good arm, and it isn't hard to miss the way he too checks to make sure Midoriya's injuries aren't worse. They both receive a shaky smile in return.

"Y-yeah. Don't worry, Iida. I'm fine, somehow…" He takes a deep breath and let's it out slowly, deflating as though it's taken a burden with it. "Thanks, Todoroki." Midoriya grabs on and Todoroki pulls him up. He leans heavily on his friend as he stands, keeping weight off his injured leg, and despite the condition of his own arms Iida slides up on his right to offer his support as well. Midoriya puts one hand on Todoroki's shoulder and slowly, gently, curls his other arm around Iida's waist, ignoring the twinge it gives him when he does. It's like this, carefully wrapped around each other and Midoriya using both of them as crutches, that they hobble towards the ambulances, bloody and damaged but whole and together.

The paramedics meet them halfway. They usher Midoriya onto a stretcher and check on their injuries, pushing them away from what had been ground zero. None of the medics on site have a healing quirk, so they're left with getting treated the old-fashioned way. Iida's armor gets replaced with bandages and a temporary sling, to keep his arms immobile until they can assess the damage; Midoriya takes his costume off and folds it aside so they can properly wrap his arm and leg; Todoroki gets butterfly closures with his dressings and is told to keep his arm still and elevated before all three are moved to separate ambulances. They meet each other's eyes for a moment, hesitant, but they don't argue when they're led away.

It's a quiet ride, thick with the tension of things barely passed and heavy with the creeping exhaustion from the fight. Iida keeps his eyes open through a mix of the flashing pain in his arms and shoulder and sheer willpower, but his thoughts start to drift to Stain, then the noumu, and to the rage that had bubbled in his veins and swirled in his mind (not unlike the exhaustion that fills him now) that has since faded into something less than even ashes and embers. There is a flash of steel and fabric before his eyes, a vision of his brother lying immobile, the wide broken grin and the manic eyes behind bandages, a knife (no, two knives) in one arm and a sword in his shoulder, the ringing ache of his jaw and the swirl of the alley when his helmet had gone flying. Midoriya and Todoroki (his classmates, his _friends_ ) showing up out of nowhere one after the other while he'd stared death in the face, a fire on one side and a fist in the other, soaring up into the air as ice swells from beneath their feet, being swept away by harsh claws and blades digging into not-burning skin and tearing black fabric just below the knee, both of them put in danger and spilling blood because of him _because of me-_

He stops at that, takes a deep breath, reminds himself of Todoroki's words - _"Pull yourself together, you're the class president,"_ he'd said, a mixed message meant to console and bring to mind the promise of who he wanted (who he swore) to become - and gently pushes the memories and thoughts away. He lets the wailing of sirens and the gentle shake and rattle of the ambulance filter back into his world and drown out the feelings (of panic, of desperation, of vengeance, of _fear_ ) until they're as distant as the scene they took place in.

When Iida looks up, the nurse only smiles softly at him, silent and understanding.


	8. Grief

**Originally I started writing this to put on a reblogged post, but then I couldn't figure out how to end it so I dropped it until recently, when I finally finished it off. Canon-compliant, technically takes place before the start of the series but has spoilers. Hard to say up to where, really. Formatting is different on Ao3 and tumblr though, in case you're curious.**

* * *

The first time Toshinori looks into the mirror after her death, he pushes the corners of his mouth up on a whim. He holds it for a moment, staring at the reflection, the forced curve in his lips and the feeling of his thumbs pulling up. It's almost like a smile, but it doesn't feel right. This action doesn't belong to him.

The mirror shatters.

He sees it in Torino's face too; there's laughter in the halls, drifting across the fields or down through the park not too far from their usual training spots, and when he gets the urge to turn around at the sound it's like there's an ache that pulls bigger every time. It's undoubtable the older man is taking the news far better than Toshinori is, yes, but sometimes Gran gets a gleam in his eye and pushes a little harder when they get together, or they hear the same echo on the wind and they have to pause just to make sure, _just to make sure._

They both feel like she should still be there.

There's a day - _three weeks into the funeral arrangements (no) after her death **(no) -**_ later, and it comes while they're sparring. There's sweat worked into his uniform, his heart a steady beat, but there's yelling in the distance and he falters again because it's familiar, that voice he _knows that voice it's-_

Torino flips him and lays him on his back with a thud that shakes Toshinori to the core. His mouth is open, ready to reprimand, but then he sees the look on Toshinori's face (Toshinori isn't entirely sure what the man sees, really) and he stops instead, wordlessly stands up and steps aside as Toshinori warily pushes himself back up.

"We're done for today, kid," Torino says, looking him over before turning away. "Fight's over early this time."

Toshinori gapes, heart hammering. "Wha… why?!" He demands, breathless.

"You're in no state to be fighting right now, kid."

"What are you talking about, I'm perfectly fine!"

"No, you're not. Don't try fighting me on this one, Toshinori. Have you even been getting any damn sleep lately?"

"Of course I have." Toshinori tries to take a deep breath, holds it for a moment, lets it out slowly. "There's no need for me to become lax with my training schedule-"

"And there's no need to run yourself into the ground over it, either!" Gran Torino whirls around, face set in stone and fire burning in his eyes, snapping, "how the hell do you think you're gonna become the greatest hero if you can't even stand up straight?! What're you gonna do, kid, slum your way out of school and go hunt down the one who did this? Be one of those vigilantes that used to run on the streets like kids on the playground? Taking care of yourself is just as important as training, Toshinori. I don't like having to see you like this because we couldn't pound that into your brain before."

They stare hard at one another before Toshinori seems to deflate, rocking back on his heels. Gran Torino sighs.

"Go home, kid. Rest. Look after yourself for a bit, maybe call that friend of yours over to distract you with whatever it is kids do these days." He pauses, plants a hand atop The boy's head for a moment, then leaves as the words on his tongue fade away.

It's still too early.

Toshinori doesn't fight this time, doesn't even pretend. He picks up his equipment, locks the field gate like the groundskeeper asked, walks home to the empty apartment for one that he feels like he hasn't really lived in for months.

He doesn't bother dumping his bag properly in its designated place or fixing the shoes he kicks off against the wall, and instead beelines for the one room that still has a mirror in it. For the second time, Toshinori looks at himself, and for a moment he thinks he sees whatever it was Gran Torino saw in him earlier.

This time, it's Toshinori who breaks.


	9. Light at the End (Ageswap AU)

**An anon on tumblr asked about Ageswap AU, specifically about Toshinori being injured by AfO. After consulting with guardianlioness, I proposed this instead. (this one's super old by now but I forgot to cross-post it - sorry!)**

 **No spoilers. What Ageswap-characters that appear are all referred by real name and not hero name, except for Izuku and Gran Torino, who either are simply referred to by hero name or who don't have a damn civilian name, respectively.**

* * *

Deku, as a person, is all rationality. That's a fact of life. So when he gets a call from Inko while she should be on duty, her voice cool and professional ( _that's her doctor voice, this is serious_ ), he's already bracing for it. The fight was on the news earlier - _Toshinori was injured_ , her voice confirms in his ear. Observations come to him - the nearest hospital, the fact that Inko is talking to him rather than working on Toshinori, the doctors that would have been working with Inko when he arrived - and he worries, but he doesn't panic. He takes the car ( _Inko didn't take it today, decided to take public transit because the walk would be better_ ) and doesn't rush, because it would put everyone else at risk, and Inko doesn't need another family member to worry about tonight.

But Deku was a pro hero, Deku was a teacher, Deku is a father - he worries and loves and fears, yes, but he will believe in the only outcome possible. Toshinori will be okay.

His daughter is waiting, ready to meet him as soon as he walks through the doors. The details come forth immediately, clipped, detailed - she's still wearing her scrubs, but the other nurses and doctors wave her off with Deku when she asks about other patients. All Might is the only severe injury they've gotten in that night, and family is important. If they need her later, they'll call her. She wants to say no, that she'll do her job, damn it, because this is what she went to school ( _to UA, to one of the most grueling programs there are for specialists in hero medicine_ ) for, but her coworkers know how to get her to agree and she does, because she doesn't want to leave Toshinori's side either.

Bless her heart, though - Inko called everyone, and soon that empty hospital room is full of familiar worried faces that find the scene of family lying on pale hospital sheets far too familiar. He swims in the bandages and pieces of gauze they've wrapped him in, mask fogging with every shallow breath. Heavy bruises peek through where the standard paper gown and strips of white don't quite cover, his hair limp and without its trademark volume, dark bags clear on his face. Toshinori looks like a wreck.

Enji had been white when she came to guide them to the room. He stays just as pale when they walk in, whispering something under his breath that no one can hear. No one needs to mention, though, that he's been saying the same thing since they got the news, over and over, like a mantra. Like a prayer. They don't need to ask to know exactly what he's whispering.

 _"He'll live. He won, and he'll pull through after this so we can all beat his ass for getting hurt and be relieved about it and go on with our lives together. He'll live."_

Tensei and Nedzu are wound up like a pair of rubber bands, like they always are when they're at the hospital, but they come like they always do, because some things are more important than fears and discomforts. Tensei calls Tenya once they arrive, to tell him about Toshinori's condition, but when his older brother answers, his voice cracks. Hizashi shoves himself into Aizawa's shoulder and refuses to move; Aizawa lets him, without any play at objection. When Nemuri takes one look at their friend and clutches Yu and Shinji's hands hard enough to leave marks, they let her. The graduated class of 1-A lean on each other for support, but their eyes are only for Toshinori.

Naomasa comes in next, followed by Nana and Gran Torino. They're grim, the three of them, and Nao looks like he's yanking all his worry and panic and fear back by it's damn teeth so it isn't plastered all over his face. Deku takes one look at the kid (he isn't really, not anymore, but everyone is a kid to Deku; they always will be) and pulls him under one arm, then levels a sweeping look at the rest of them and opens his other, which is as good an invitation as any.

Even in old age, his arms are sturdy and feel like home.

That night it's like they're in UA again, piling onto the chairs and leaning on each other as they settle in to sleep. They're all loathe to leave him alone right now, when he's still in such a delicate state, but that's not a possibility, not anymore; they have jobs, duties, obligations. Things they can't leave to others to do for them, not for long. Tonight, though, tonight they'll stay. They'll stand guard and refuse to leave him alone, because they're heroes, yes, but this is what they want to do as friends, as family, and they'll come back as long as they're needed.

( _And later, after days and a week of worry, of fear, of regular visits and quiet words exchanged in the silence they cannot stand, Toshinori pulls through, and wakes up for the first time. He will laugh and joke at the twenty-five faces he wakes up to, say "you didn't think All Might would go down that easily, did you?"_

 _They're too busy jostling each other in joy, and crying (just a bit, they swear, but it isn't), and repeating, over and over, "i'm glad you woke up", not actually in those words exactly. There's far more swearing and hugs and affectionately barbed phrases than entirely necessary, but that's alright._

 _Because he's okay._ )


End file.
